She's Going Out Of My Mind
by jackwabbit
Summary: Jack Angst, Jack POV, Implied JS, Implied JackLaira. Season 3. Spoilers for 100 Days. Summary: Jack’s Losing The Battle To Hang On.


**She's Going Out Of My Mind**

Rated: PG

Category: Jack Angst, Jack POV, Implied JS, Implied Jack/Laira

Season: Three

Spoilers: A Hundred Days

Summary: Jack's Losing The Battle To Hang On.

Note: To those non-Parrotheads out there, Jimmy Buffett has an album called 'Riddles in the Sand'. It's not a happy album, but it's a good one. A while back, I realized just how many songs on said album could be applied to my favorite sci-fi 'couple', Sam and Jack. So, a self challenge to write a story for each song on the album ensued. The is the third. Not a song fic.

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"She's going out of my mind. And I'm showing all the signs.I thought that our love was one of a kind. Now she's going out of my mind."

-Jimmy Buffett, 'She's Going Out of My Mind'

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My hip hurts where the hard floor digs into it.

It hurts every night, but I never do anything to fix it.

I wake stiff and sore every morning, from slumber that is far from restful, but I don't ask for another blanket or sleep in another place.

In some weird and twisted way, I relish the discomfort.

I shouldn't be comfortable here.

I don't belong here.

This isn't my home.

My internal cynic laughs at that remark. I shut him out and repeat my latest mantra.

This isn't my home_._

He laughs again, bitterly.

Some have questioned in the past whether I'm insane, but I've never wondered. I can tell you it's a fact, at least if talking to yourself is any indication. An internal conversation starts, between me and myself, for the millionth time since I was stranded here.

I argue with the cynic. 'It's not. Honest. My home is filled with plants and trees I recognize.'

He just laughs more. 'And you don't know most vegetation here by name?'

'That's not the point,' I mutter to myself. 'Besides, the sky at home is like a well-used map. Familiar and comforting.'

'And you weren't finding Edoran constellations just last night?'

I begin to get desperate. The cynic is winning, as he often does. 'There's trout and salmon at home.'

'And what was that you cooked over an open flame last week? Venison? Looked like fish to me. It was damn good, too. Who needs trout?'

I sigh. Laira stirs in the next room. I can't argue anymore. It's true. One by one, I am replacing things.

Things that I thought were irreplaceable.

But this _isn't_ my home.

It's _not_.

Perhaps if I tell myself that enough, I'll believe it.

Perhaps I'll be able to stop the inexorable slide toward acceptance of my fate that I feel beginning inside me.

Laira moves again, and I cringe as a tiny flame licks at my insides persistently.

It bloomed to life weeks ago, and it will not be extinguished.

Lord knows I tried to put it out.

After all, my home is also filled with crystal blue eyes and radiant blonde hair.

Crystal blue eyes and radiant blonde hair that are strictly off limits.

Brown eyes dancing with laughter tonight at dinner brought a smile.

Brown eyes that have no restrictions.

Brown eyes that have brought me Garran, who brings me more joy than I could have imagined.

Somehow, I almost have a family here.

It's too good for me, and I don't deserve it, but here it is.

Right in front of me.

There for the taking.

And I want it.

So help me God, I do.

I know I shouldn't, but I do.

I want it so much sometimes that it scares me. I'm afraid that if I allow myself to enjoy my situation, even a little bit, I'll like it too much to let it go when the time comes.

And so I stay on the floor, uncomfortable and a little cold, and I fight.

I fight the urge to let my old life go and begin again.

But I know I will lose.

My world is leaving me, like so many sands through my fingers.

Earth is going, and with it, all that I loved there.

I can't fight forever.

Slowly but surely, she's going out of my mind.


End file.
